


into the light (i'd set my heart on fire to keep you warm)

by eccentrick



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Drabble, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Insecure Oikawa Tooru, M/M, Non-Linear Narrative, kinda Psycho Pass au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-07
Updated: 2017-06-07
Packaged: 2018-11-10 01:12:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11116761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eccentrick/pseuds/eccentrick
Summary: Oikawa has 99 problems and Iwaizumi ain't one.





	into the light (i'd set my heart on fire to keep you warm)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [astersandstuffs](https://archiveofourown.org/users/astersandstuffs/gifts).



> This is a gift for my fellow writing friend Rikka!!! Happy Birthday bby, sorry if this is late for your timezone. Hopefully you enjoy my most likely very inaccurate depiction of the Psycho Pass universe!!! It was fun to write. Love you!
> 
> Thanks to everyone in the CSG for reading, commenting, and editing!
> 
> Edit: title belongs to the song Into the Light by Emilia Ali. Thanks for the beautiful rec bby!

  
** _Tooru’s Trouble_ **

Hajime rolls the cigarette between his lips, ignoring the excess ash dusting his chest. He inhales, bit by bit, feeling his lungs expand around the smoke, before exhaling through his nose, only a few feeble puffs escaping his tightly closed lips. Tooru will kill him if he sees Hajime's new black shirt sprinkled with gray, but Hajime ignores the thought since he is mad at Tooru.

 _Real mature_ , Hajime.

But he can't help it.

Tooru is avoiding him. Well, as much as his partner can, since they, you know, _work together_. Right now the mystery, as always, is why.

Why is Tooru avoiding him? Why is he so quick to leave using the same door Hajime walks through, shoulders brushing, like he is escaping the worst fate? Why is Tooru not being _Tooru_?

Well, why isn't he being Normal Tooru, as normal as his best friend gets?

"Iwa-chan, we're all done. Tobio-chan found the prey before me, the little shit." Tooru informs as he approaches.

Hajime sighs. "I know, why else did you think I stopped for a smoke?" He grinds the spent cigarette, "And don't call them prey, Oikawa. It makes you even creepier than you already are."

Tooru lurches at the jab, opening his mouth to retort, before he quickly shuts his mouth. The enforcer grows more serious before he laughs, a plastic one, something Hajime only hears when others are around. It's almost never been directed towards him when they're alone.

Before he can say anything, Tooru skips forward, giving an exaggerated wave. "Our person has been caught, so you know what that means. I'll see you later, Iwa-chan."

He makes it to the transporter at the same time as Akaashi, who Tooru enthusiastically engages, his voice carrying a subtle hint of warning, eyes guarded.

Hajime straightens his back with purpose, reaching to light another smoke.

 

* * *

 

He catches Tooru in the training room. It is an easy guess where the enforcer might be, since there were too few options that got even fewer when put against Tooru’s tastes. So that means he is either training until his knee gives out underneath him, or he is at the bar playing darts against Bokuto, his first glass of whiskey full, drops of condensation telling Hajime he hasn't touched it.

When he checks the bar, he only catches a glimpse of limbs wrapped together, a mix of white and blacks and browns telling him all he needs to know. Kiyoko will once again win the team bet, this time on how long it would take for Bokuto to work up the nerve to make a move on Akaashi. Hajime isn't sure what she does with all her money.

What he feels when he crosses the training room's threshold is anger, and then the hot feeling mellows out at the sight of Tooru’s scrunched face.

"Idiot."

Tooru looks up, defeat fighting to make it into his eyes. But the fire that forever kindles beneath leaves little room for any rest, burning Tooru as much as it burns others. The flames have always warmed Hajime.

Tooru looks smug when he's able to stand, one swollen, angry knee threatening to no longer hold him up, but it's only the bare bones. He may act like he has things together, but Hajime knows different.

Hajime reaches to support him, swatting away Tooru’s attempt at refusal. He guides him to a bench, where they sit side by side, hip to hip.

"What is your problem? I thought we worked things out, that you wouldn't self-sabotage?"

"What does it matter either way? I'm a latent criminal, Iwa-chan, which means I'm lesser. I need to make up for it somehow."

Hajime snorts, a bitter exhale of breath. "We both know you're over that, you have been for years. You'll probably always have an inferiority complex, yes, but not for being an enforcer."

When Tooru broke at the tender age of fifteen, so had Hajime. So much so, he was convinced he would be escorted the same way Tooru had, be deemed a potential criminal like his best friend. But he didn't. He thinks that people must shatter in a million different ways, like mirrors, and what you see reflected back at you in infinite variations change people in strange ways. Some draw blood, while others are swept up and gathered together again.

Hajime spent years gathering every little piece. He worked and worked, and when he was chosen for inspector work, running after Tooru was finally possible.

He isn't going to let whatever is bothering Tooru ruin the progress they've made.

"I have many problems, don't I, Iwa-chan?" Tooru deflects, unwrapping his knuckles in a flurry. The tape sticks and bundles together, and Tooru throws it to the ground.

"That you do. It just appears there is another one that I have not yet been notified about. If something is wrong, you better tell me before I figure it out myself." He tries to go for a soft tone, but frustration is a rotten lining in his voice.

"I thought criminals didn't have feelings, hmm?"

Hajime is going to hit him. He feels the itching in his hands to flick the toxic thoughts out of Tooru’s head.

A vein is surely prominent on his forehead as he says, "You know that's bullshit! And, you're not a criminal. You haven't hurt anyone—"

  
“Yet. I haven't hurt anyone yet, is what you mean. I also remember distinctly, the time that took me over the edge, where I hit Tobio-chan. And I wanted to when I first saw him here as a enforcer, following in his senpai's footsteps." Tooru fidgets, roughly pulling at his own fingers, the joints popping under the force.

"You know that's not your fault, asshole. You didn't influence him, he's even said so. So shut the fuck up before I make you," he forces out of clenched teeth.

Tooru giggles and it's not a sweet sound, "You're such a brute, Iwa-chan. If someone looked at us together, they might think that you're the enforcer."

  
Something lights up in Hajime's mind, pieces forced together like magnets. It is all so stupid, he thinks, the righteous anger floating in his mind but never quite connecting with his heart.

"You think that by me being with you, that I'll become a latent criminal?" When Tooru doesn't answer, Hajime almost growls. " _Huh_?"

Tooru doesn't look at him, looks anywhere but at him, eyes flicking back and forth almost manically.

He lurches forward, teeth showing as he hisses, " _Of course_ , Hajime. Your number has been going up!"

"That. Could. Be. Anything. You know that right? Quit being so self-absorbed, we've both seen some shit, right?"

Tooru seems to fight with himself, leg bouncing and fingers suffering as he digs into the cuticle.

"I can be self-absorbed, maybe, but I'm observant. Whenever you," Tooru coughs into his fist, "spend long periods of time with me, it goes up." The idiot smirks, "Unless you've been spending time with someone else, which is unlikely."

The grins falls into a grimace. "And I bet, just before you came to nag me like a mother hen, your numbers were back to normal."

  
Hajime closes his eyes, and prays for the control to not—not pummel Tooru, lovingly. He'd never truly hurt the enforcer, but there have been times when he really wanted to. Like now, to knock some sense into him.

“Tooru. I will concern myself with my own numbers. Trust me, I'm a responsible adult." Setting his teeth on edge, he pushes through. "And, even if, by some miniscule percentage, you're raising my numbers, I wouldn't care. It doesn't matter. I'm not even close to being a latent criminal, and if I were, I wouldn't care. As long as I'm where I want to be, I am fine." Just to lighten the mood, he continues with, "And I thought I was your mother, not the other way around."

  
Sometime during his speech (if you could call it that) Tooru began crying. It was ugly, really, the tear tracks making his blotchy skin that much more noticeable, his eyes instantly red from any sign of tears, and his nose already running, but he was a picture Hajime won't soon forget.

Tooru breaths, "Okay," and he knew it was over, at least, for now. That is all he can ask for, knowing Tooru. But if he has to, he will be here to remind Tooru, again and again.

  
_**II. The Day Tooru Breaks** _

Tooru remembers waking up on that day, on his back, arm thrown haphazardly above his bedhead. It is unusual. To open his eyes and see the ceiling, a blank white that seems too close, feels like a bad omen. He puts his glow-in-the-dark stars on the left wall for a reason.

He stubs his toe as soon as he wakes up. It alerts the tablet on his desk, showing unsolved equations and unused notes, and a pressure in him builds. He pushes it down, as he always does, and gets ready. Tooru meets Iwa-chan on his way to school.

He is fifteen when he is deemed a latent criminal.

It's strange, really. That morning, his numbers were a little high, but not something he would worry about. No, he's just stressed, tired, and tonight he promises himself that he'll leave practice on time and actually decompress instead of just coming home, doing homework and passing out. Iwa-chan will be pleasantly surprised. He'll run his hand through Tooru’s hair, where he usually light smacks Tooru for overworking himself.

School doesn't make him feel any better. Usually his fanclub oohing and awing at him repairs any damaged self-esteem, but today it grates his nerves. Maybe it's because they clearly ignore Iwa-chan to his right, or perhaps because they don't actually _know_ him. They just happen to like his hair and his eyes and his talent. He snorts when he thinks of the last one, since that isn't even a merit anymore. He's not talented, really, he's just good at practicing.

Iwaizumi notices the change in his mood, shown by the completely-unfair-broad-shoulders of his best friend knocking into his own, a silent promise/threat of _you sure as hell are going to tell me what's wrong, or so help me. . ._

A prickle of warmth colors his neck, but otherwise, it anchors Tooru.

Even though Iwa-chan's silent promise is never fulfilled, not for lack of trying.

It happens towards the end of practice: his fingers itch and his forearms ache, but it's a rewarding pain, telling him to _bloom bloom bloom_. The day's tension ebbs and swells throughout, like the sea lapping the shore, but it's nothing new; just like the ocean wears and erodes the sand, the constant back and forth of his mood lowers his carefully constructed walls. Fire licks at his heels.

He stays after practice.

Tooru hits as many volleyballs as he can, the give of muscle and fingers as the balls fly over the net, nearly perfect, calm him. The flames are doused enough to only be a small hindrance.

But, like pouring oil onto open fire, "Can you teach me to serve," he crumbles, and burns and he needs it _out out out._ He lets the savage scorch blacken his barrier, destroys them completely.

Skin connects to skin, his once numb hand aching when it connects to something solid and alive. An aborted yelp jars him slightly, enough to notice movement next him, to see what was coming for him.

 _Ah_ , Tooru thinks, _that's what this feeling is._ And more detached, _I guess they called security. They'll be here soon. I had forgotten they have a system here at school._

Some part of him is horrified, since this isn't him, he has never truly wanted to hurt Tobio-chan. The other parts, dark and unexplored, feel relieved, that he finally doesn't have to constantly fight with himself. He's known, for a long time, where this was going.

Mostly, he doesn't want to look at Hajime. Anywhere but him.

 _Ah_ , Tooru thinks as they detain him, _so that's what this is_.

 

_**III. Iwa-chan is a Newbie** _

Hajime inhales, and then coughs. If Kuroo was here, he'd be laughing his ass off, but lucky for the jerk, he isn't.

The stress is getting to him, big time. Hajime has always been used to being the 'big man on campus' as Tooru puts it, meaning he is used to being in charge, in control. Now, he's the newbie and he has no idea what he's doing. It feels like first year all over again.

So, against better judgement, he's bummed a few cigarettes from another inspector (Kuroo), which is the smoke he is now coughing up.

Tooru will kill him. If he finds out that is. Which he will, since the idiot has the sense of smell of a bloodhound, and Hajime can already see his lips curling in disgust at the acrid smell of smoke.

 _I guess I'll live with it if it's Iwa-chan. But you should quit before you really start, it's so bad for you...and you call me the idiot,_ is what Tooru will most likely spout, as he kisses Hajime anyway. He did the same speech when Hajime decided he liked energy drinks.

He smiles as he snuffs out the offending cigarette.

 

 

 


End file.
